Outlaw Queen Alphabet: Angst series
by moonlessmondays
Summary: 1 OQ oneshot per letter. All angsty.
1. A is for Again

**A/N: This is the first installment to the Outlaw Queen Alphabet: Angst Series** **that I have been working on. The updates might not be frequent, and it might not be in the order that the letters go (which will grate on my nerves endlessly). I hope you like it anyway!**

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The thick, black smoke that surrounded the station was an indication that the train had made its hasty departure. It was an indication that he missed it; again. Why couldn't he have just ridden a plane? It was the same thing, anyway. He would get from Paris to London and in a better, faster way too. Why did he have to go bloody traditional?

"Bloody hell," he muttered as he made his way through the horde of people on his way. He pushed his way through the crowd earning him some cold stares and glares. But he could care less. He was already late.

It was cold. A cold morning which he wished was spent in bed, languidly if he must. And the nicotine stick he puffed wasn't much of a help either. He ran his fingers through his hair. He was on his third stick when the whistle blew again. An indication that the train had arrived; again.

"Thank heavens," he said under his breath as his cigarette was thrown to the ground and stomped by the Italian leather shoes donned by his feet.

People had quickly gathered round the train, pushing him and hitting him in every direction. He was annoyed. Couldn't this people wait for a bloody second before they start piling by the door? It would be faster that way, wouldn't it?

But no, people were more intent on getting on the train faster than in order, which in his opinion would make it faster. Maybe it was better if they broke some limbs before they went to work?

He rolled his eyes. The way people functioned these days was just plain absurd. He stood back as he waited for the wad of people to thin out so he can get in himself.

He quickly scanned the expanse of the train for a thinner crowd by the door. No such luck. His head went every direction, his eyes were keen.

The day was just going wrong. Just plain wrong.

But then he spotted her. He spotted her by the opposite end of the train; arms across her chest, her lips pursed. Who would have thought?

"Regina?" he whispered breathlessly.

The tiny brunette had been waiting for the line to thin out, like he did. Who knew the day that turned out so bad could turn out so good?

Who knew that by missing the first train, he'll meet the woman he had not seen for almost five years?

Who knew? Indeed.

He wasn't sure how or when it had happened, but he suddenly found himself a few more steps behind her. His feet had a mind of its own, it seemed. He was merely an inch form her now. He held out his hand to tap her shoulder.

But the line moved. She wasn't with his reach anymore; again.

He sighed and let out a string of curse words. Like a bubble, she vanished. Why couldn't he have just called her name, anyway?

What a flaming idiot he was.

He scrambled to his feet, pushing his way to her. He needed to catch her. He needed to have a talk with her. He needed to see her, to hear her voice, to see her smile and to touch her again. He needed her.

And he knew it was wrong. It was wrong in all sorts of ways. But even if he did know that, it all felt right to him.

Upon stepping on the train, he hurriedly searched for an empty compartment. He was going to search for her later. Knowing that she was on the same train as he was, was enough for the moment.

All the compartments were with tenants, if they weren't already full. He was having a rotten luck. What a day it was. But things did happen for a reason, he believed. And he knew the reason. He believed his _own_ reason.

He sighed. He wasn't just going to find a compartment for himself. And if luck would continue to be barmy, he may wound up having to share a compartment with a non-stop yapping youngling or a bloody boring old soul.

He felt pathetic. And he was giving up, slowly. He chanted a small chorus of "Please let there be a God," in his head like a mantra. He had a purpose to fulfil but if he couldn't find one bloody compartment, what was he to do now?

The train was steadily moving now. He dragged his carry-on as he peered to every door. His feet made loud noises that disturbed the serenity.

"This will be the last room. If there's a horde of people or an old or yapping fool inside this thing, I swear I will camp out in here," he groused only to himself.

As he held his breath, he opened the door slowly.

Nothing; it was empty.

He breathed a sigh of relief. At last, he had found a room. He threw his bag carelessly to the chair by the right and left the compartment. He looked by the door and tried to remember the number.

"23B," he said aloud. He had to bear that in mind. And with that, he went on his search for her. For the woman who had left him five years ago. He could still remember it vividly. He replayed it in his head like a movie, clear and detailed. He couldn't forget it if he tried. He couldn't forget _her_ if he tried.

It was a good four months back then that his father had died. He had fallen into depression for he was eaten up by guilt. He had not been able to be by his father's side when his father had died and that troubled him deeply.

He never really had the best relationship with his father, to be quite honest. But even so, the pain of being far away when his father passed was unbearable. She was there by his side back then. She faithfully tried to help him get over it. She had lent him her shoulder when he cried. She listened to his sentiments. She whispered words of condolences and encouragement in his ears. She was there by his side like they promised each other.

But he wasn't the one to be grateful. Instead of thanking her, he pushed her away. He lashed out on her. He drank himself to stupor every night. And he would lie to her about work when all he ever did was drink and go around, sleeping with one woman to the next. He broke his promise to her. His promise to never hurt her and to love her as she did him. He hurt her deeply. He took for granted everything they had shared for a moment of depression that he could have fought. A depression _they_ could have fought together.

He was stupid and insatiable. He didn't see that what he had right in front of his eyes was his everything. He didn't see it, until she left him; cold and alone in their empty bed. When he did realize it however, he tried getting her back. But he hurt really deeply that she just wouldn't get back with him. Not anymore. Not in his state, all disheveled and lost.

So he turned his life around, once again. He got his job back that he just lost. He reinvented himself. He changed for her. He threw all his bad habits for her. And it had been hard. One hell of a torture more likely but it was worth it. It was all worth it. It took him five years but he wouldn't have changed a thing because he did it for her. And everything he would do just for her.

He hadn't noticed that he had found the other side of the train because he was busy remembering her. There was just one last door he had to open before he came back down to his own compartment. He opened the last door but he was disappointed. She wasn't anywhere to be found. Maybe that wasn't her? Maybe his mind played tricks on him because he missed her so much? Probably.

He sighed. Maybe it was time to let go. Maybe it was time to heal. Maybe it was time to forget.

Maybe, it was.

He opened the door of his compartment tiredly. He just wanted to rest. He sat by the window and watched the view as the train passed by them. It was beautiful, the scene before him. And it was great to see a change of scenery, actually. He only saw buildings in Central London. It was nice to see greenery for a change. Besides, it made him calm. Maybe that's why she always preferred to take trains rather than plane when travelling to Paris, he mused as he was reminded of her once again.

And maybe, that's why he's taken the train and not the plane albeit the comfort it offered. Because she always took the train, he had hoped he would see her there. Like fate intervened on them to meet again.

But it wasn't likely, was it?

He sighed again. All this quiet, trying not to think of her and trying to think of her at the same time was driving him insane.

He picked up the book across him. _Jane Eyre_ , her favourite. He flipped the page and began reading eagerly. He was so intent in the book that he hadn't heard the door open as another presence was made known to the room. That was until he heard that person clear its throat.

"I'm sorry. I hope you don't mind the sharing of compartment," he said dully as he hadn't torn his eyes from the book.

He heard the leather crunch as that person sat across him.

"And I hope you don't mind that I borrowed your book. It was just my wife's favour-," he trailed as his eyes met the other person's.

When his eyes met _hers_.

She didn't speak as shock registered in her face. He was shocked too. He had all the intentions of finding her but he had not intended to actually sit with her on that bloody tiny compartment: alone.

He prayed for them to meet again, yes. But not this way.

His throat went dry as his heart beat loud and rhythmically in his chest. There was a deafening silence and thick tension enveloped the air.

What the hell was he to do now?

He opened his mouth to speak and so did she, but all that came out was a loud and sharp intake of breath.

He blinked, once, twice then thrice before he cleared his throat. "Regina?" he finally was able to say.


	2. I is for Inert

I apologize in advance. Sorry y'all.

 **Inert**

 _Inert- lacking the ability or strength to move._

The room was glowing from the light the television emitted, and the silence was interrupted by its soft buzzing. Robin was on his bed, watching, or rather staring at the television as he held his daughter close. She had a nightmare that night and wanted her parents close, so against his better judgment, he had let his daughter stay with them knowing she would be asleep after a few minutes. She had begged him, however, that she be allowed to watch their home videos, and being such a pushover to his daughter—who looked so much like her mother—he had agreed.

" _Today is the 6_ _th_ _of May 2011, and Regina Victoria Mills agreed to be my girlfriend."_ He watched himself as he grinned at the camera, his eyes shining.

He could still feel how happy he was that day.

" _Today is July 8, 2012."_ He'd told the camera conspiratorially, as his grin threatened to split his face. " _They said that this would be a good idea, but I'm still not sure. Although, I do agree that if things turn out the way I want to, then it might be a brilliant idea."_

The tape rolled and shifted to another scene. This time it showed him on a table with Regina as they chatted casually. Regina looked gorgeous in her red dress. He took her hand in his and asked her to dance with him. She agreed—elatedly. He held her close, his eyes falling shut as he inhaled the intoxicating smell of her.

" _Regina," he said, as he dropped on his knees. Regina gasped, and Robin stared at her with wide, nervous eyes. He held up a black velvet box, and sighed._

" _I…I don't really know what to say at times like this. I believe that actions speak more than words ever would…but I need to say it, and you need to hear it. I love you. You changed me. For someone who was adamant on saying that I don't want kids, that marriage is nothing but a ball and chain…I never thought I'd ever find someone who I'd ever want to be serious with, much less marry. But then there was you, and I found that everything changed. I'm not really that good with words. I'm not really…I might look like an idiot, and I probably am…but I want you to be my wife. Please say that you will be."_

 _Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and if he wasn't so nervous, he would have wiped them. Then she nodded—a small, almost imperceptible nod. Robin grinned, his nervousness fading away as he slid the ring onto her finger. She couldn't speak. She could only watch as he slid the ring, and then stand up to kiss her._

" _A thousand times over, Robin," she whispered. "A thousand times over, yes."_

Robin's chest rose and fell, and his eyes fell shut. The emotions running through him now were more than the emotions running through him then.

When he opened his eyes, a new scene was playing out in the television.

 _Regina was walking down the aisle in her white dress. The glimmer of her engagement ring and her necklace was nothing against the glimmer of her smile. In her hands were a mixture of white tulips and red roses, and in her eyes were glistening tears ready to fall at any minute._

 _The moment she reached Robin, who was waiting for her at the end of the aisle with a smile on his face, the tears finally did fall._

When it got to the vows part, even Robin was tearing up.

" _I remember the first time you and I met," she said. "I hated you. I absolutely hated you. You were a loud mouth, and you were so blunt, and so arrogant. I really hated you, to the point that I would cross the street if I ever see you. But you…you weren't all that…well you are, but you showed me that you can be more than that. You showed me that you were someone, someone more than what you had me believe at first. You wormed your way to my heart, and you showed me that as much as I didn't believe it, I was capable of loving again. I have been burned so many times before, and that scared me. But you, you showed me that those are just the bumps in the road that would lead me to you."_

 _He wiped her tears away, smiling at her despite his own tears._

" _I love you, and every day I thank my lucky stars that you are mine."_

" _I remember thinking that you were such a diva, the first time I met you," he said, chuckling when she shot him a look. "But you know, you showed me that deep inside, you were a woman of strength, of love, of independence and beauty. You are the one who made me believe…and I know I've said it before but you changed me. No, you gave me a reason to change and be a better man. You are my soul mate for the rest of my life."_

 _She smiled at him—that precious smile he adored so much, before wiping the tears that he hadn't known were streaming down his cheeks._

The scene shifted again, and it was him, grinning goofily at the camera, pointing at his wedding band.

" _Today is May 23, 2013 and I finally caught her."_

There was silence as the video rolled onto a different scene.

" _Hi," she greeted cheerily in front of the camera. "I'm Regina Locksley." She giggled slightly, before her hand came to rest at her lap. "You know that already. But…I'm just here to tell my darling husband that he's not going to be my husband any longer." She paused a little._

In his mind's eye, he could still remember the time stopping when the words left her lips. He had thought she was serious, because of the serious look in her face.

" _He's also going to be a dad." Her lips broke into a grin, and she held up a pregnancy test. "Congratulations daddy!"_

Robin smiled, as the television went blank for a second before her face appeared again.

" _Today is January 9, 2014, four days past my due date, and still no baby." She pointed at her oversized belly, and Robin laughed in the background._

He remembered that two days after that, Regina went to labor, cursing him up to his ancestors, making him swear that he would never touch her again.

When the video turned up again, it was their daughter's first birthday.

" _Happy birthday Ellie!" Regina had said happily, helping their daughter blow on the candles._

" _Happy birthday Hope Elise," he'd said, kissing her daughter's forehead._

They were a picture of a happy family. He never thought that it would change. But it did. Just as the scene on the television had.

" _It's December 27, 2016 today," he said. "And what is going to happen today, little love?"_

 _The camera focused on a beautiful girl, 2 years of age, who was grinning happily at the camera._

" _Mama dance!" she said, giggling and squealing happily._

 _The camera focused on the stage, filming the dance that Regina had choreographed and starred on._

He remembered begging her not to do the stunt. He remembered asking her to change it, telling her that he was not comfortable with it, but she had refused him. She'd told him it was okay, that they were professionals, that they did this all the time. She had told him everything would be fine. And he had trusted her.

He should have begged her more. He should have told her not to do it.

He watched the television as it played out one of his nightmares. Everything had been caught on tape. Regina was doing a risky move, jumping from the eight foot miniature stage, as the others dancers waited for her—as her spotter. But she had misjudged her moves and the distance, and she had jumped off mark, making her land on the hard, cold ground.

In the video, Robin's cry had been loud and clear, and the camera had fallen into the floor with a thud as he rushed to get to his wife.

The video ended, and the darkness enveloped the room. He made no move to get up. He couldn't. His daughter's body weighed his chest down, and so did the emotions inside him. His eyes fell to the sleeping form beside him—the sleeping form of his wife. She was smiling in her sleep. And there was a certain peace and calm in her. He stroked her hair, hoping, wishing, praying and willing her to wake up.

It was May 23 that day.

He felt the weight lift off of his chest as his daughter crawled off. He thought she was asleep, but apparently she wasn't. He watched as his daughter crawled to her mother's chest, her ear falling roughly where her mother's heart was beating faintly. His heart almost broke at the scene—but it was torn when her daughter spoke.

"Wake up mommy," she said. "Daddy and I are missing you."

 **Fin.**


End file.
